Auld Lang Syne
by Connor Asfadjnis
Summary: Clara attempts to play a prank on the TARDIS. It is not appreciated. Christmas oneshot.


Today was the day.

Well, today was the day for a variety of things, most notably a Wednesday, and not only that but the last Wednesday before Christmas. Those things were all exciting in their own right, of course, but today was also the day for something she'd been planning for months.

Today was the day she'd finally prank the snogbox back.

Yessir, today Clara would finally get the Doctor's bully of a space (and time) ship for all those ruined clothes, swimming pool episodes, and convenient-glass-of-warm-water tricks on those days she spent the subjective night with the Doctor.

This was going to feel very, very good.

XXX

"_The TARDIS hates being searched," the Doctor said in response to Clara's entreaties that she be allowed to search the time machine for certain missing "girl products", as her mother referred to them (that had of course mysteriously disappeared the instant her back was turned). "She'll tolerate it if it's, you know, me, but, ah, you're… not me."_

"_You mean she despises my very existence?" Clara asked sourly._

"_Oh, come on, don't be like that! She likes you, honest, she just- that's just her way of showing affection. You know, good-natured teasing every once in a while. Isn't that right?" This last part was directed at the TARDIS and was answered with silence. "See?" the Doctor asked after some time passed. "It's just that, well, the whole thing about various items moved around, violation of privacy; I'm sure you understand. Very unpleasant for the old girl. Especially for something like a hairbrush. You know, very small, hard to find."_

"_Right." Clara shifted guiltily as she answered. "So, the, ah, the hair brush. It's gone, then?"_

"_Well… yes, afraid so. Sorry." At that very moment, the TARDIS rumbled, and a small box labeled "Tampax" dropped from nowhere and landed right between Clara and the Doctor. The Doctor raised an eyebrow. _

"_I-I'll just, um, take that then," Clara stammered as she stooped to pick the box up. _

XXX

Clara was already on the front porch with a large, full trash bag slung over her shoulder when the TARDIS landed.

"Clara!" The Doctor greeted as the door opened.

"Hi there," Clara responded. "Can you hold these a moment? I need to go get something." With that she shoved the bag into his hands and dashed back into the house as the Doctor watched bemusedly.

By the time she returned the door to the TARDIS was open, and she enacted the first part of her plan and inconspicuously hung a wreath upon it. "Merry Christmas," she whispered with a sickening sweetness to the blue wood.

"Alright!" she announced once she entered. "I'm ready! Where are we going?"

"You seem excited," the Doctor said with a grin.

"How could I not?" Clara asked. "Christmas, traveling the Universe with a slightly mad alien in a police box…"

"Clara!" the Doctor was offended. "_Slightly _mad? I've worked hard and I think I rather deserve a higher recommendation than _slightly_."

"OK, OK," Clara said. "Totally mad, or just rounded off at half?"

"I'm humble," the Doctor said. "Half. No, two thirds."

Over the past year their conversations became easier, quicker, more relaxed and definitely not in any way of a flirting nature, no matter what Artie thought. She loved that. Finally, the Doctor was seeing her as more than just the Impossible Girl.

Of course, the TARDIS was having some difficulties with civility, but Clara was on the verge of solving that. Which led her to her next point.

"Hey, do you mind if I decorate?" Clara asked, pointing at the trash bag. "Just something small, not a big deal. You know, make everything a little bit more… festive."

To her surprise the Doctor frowned, apparently in deep thought. "I don't know," he said. "I'm not big for domestics."

"Just for this trip," Clara begged. "I'll take it all down straight away. It's my stuff, anyway."

The Doctor still looked on the edge, so Clara played her last card. "It's Christmas. You know I love Christmas," Clara said. "Don't you want me to be happy?"

The TARDIS made a sound that sounded suspiciously like a snort of derision, but Clara ignored it.

"Well, all right," the Doctor conceded. "Just for this trip."

Clara beamed at him and started haphazardly draping tinsel over every rail.

XXX

"…_and in the next star system over," the Doctor said, "There's a species of people that lives solely off of purple food! Imagine it! Only purple, ever, for anything. Nowadays, of course, they can dye any food they like purple, but before, it was only two or three things. They're very lucky they evolved on a planet with purple grass."_

_Clara nodded politely as the Doctor tinkered with the console and extolled the virtues of every planet he could think of. _

"_Then of course, in the same system there's Skrueginch," he continued. "They hate anything to do with Christmas. Christmas! I don't know why Christmas. Overall they're very nice folks, family oriented, good home values, very polite. But Christmas!"_

"_Really?" Clara said, taking an unfeigned interest for the first time. "Why?"_

_The Doctor shrugged. "Nobody knows. Some suspect that they dislike the over-commercialized aspect Christmas has taken in the rise of capitalism during the post-modern era of the galaxy, fueled by a growing population and technological advances that condition the populace to expect faster results in all aspects of their everyday lives."_

"_Huh."_

"_Well, me, personally, I think it _may _have something to do with me, possibly, very accidentally, promising to marry their High Queen on Christmas, and, ah, possibly forgetting to show up. All hypothetical of course. That's just my theory. And this hypothetical me would rush to assure you that it was all a very big, very hypothetical misunderstanding."_

"_And the Queen in this hypothetical scenario hated Christmas afterwards."_

"_Well, actually she banned it. It and all Christmas decorations. Like I said, very nice people and all that, but very unfriendly towards Christmas. So! Purple food planet? It's actually a very tasty color."_

XXX

"Why would you want to go to Skrueginch?" the Doctor asked. "I told you, they hate Christmas!"

"I know!" Clara said. "I'm just curious, that's all. I want to see what it's like."

"Oh, very well," the Doctor grumbled as he set the coordinates. "Just don't mention my name to anyone. Just on the off chance that scenario I was telling you about actually happened."

The day was cold and gray. Clara made sure she exited after the Doctor so she would be the one to close the door and ensure the Doctor did not see the wreath. As she gazed over the city, she reflected that it actually looked very much like an Earth city, but without any festive adornments that usually cropped up around this time.

"See? Nice place," the Doctor said. "Ready to explore? It looks boring, but really, they have some fascinating-"

"Excuse us, sir and madam," came a voice from behind the pair. They jumped and looked around. A group of tall gray aliens in official looking uniforms were standing behind them, looking very grieved to be intruding upon the Doctor and Clara. "We're terribly sorry about this," said the same alien, "but you appear to be harboring illegal adornments on your vessel."

The Doctor finally spotted the wreath on the door of the TARDIS. "Clara," he said in a very disappointed tone of voice.

"We will have to search your vessel," another alien said. "Our most sincere apologies."

One of the aliens pointed a strange looking device at the door. A few hums and some clicking issued forth from the device, and the TARDIS door swung open.

The Doctor and Clara followed. "Actually, I'm not so sure that's a good idea. You see, the TARDIS, she doesn't like being searched, it makes her nervous-" the Doctor began.

"Sir," said the lead alien in a tone that conveyed a sense of infinite regret and a wish that it was not so, but that he really needed to search their vessel and he would appreciate it if the Doctor did not make his job more regrettably rude than it needed to be.

The console room was totally devoid of Christmas decorations. "The clever girl," the Doctor whispered to Clara. "She hid them all."

"Yeah," Clara said. "Clever."

Clara could, however, divine some satisfaction in the fact that the aliens looked under everything that could conceivably hide a festive ornament of some kind. _I hope this is all very uncomfortable_, Clara thought towards the TARDIS with a sort of petty satisfaction.

"Sir!" called one of the aliens. "I've found something." The group of uniformed aliens rushed towards the door he was holding open. Clara and the Doctor followed.

Behind the door was Clara's room, except it was covered head to foot in every decoration Clara had brought onboard with her. Tinsel covered the bed, lights (that were also plugged in and running) were strewn about the room and ornaments were hung from every extremity.

"But this is my room!" Clara said unthinkingly as the Doctor tried to shush her. The aliens turned slowly towards Clara.

"Oh dear," the Doctor said. The TARDIS, it seemed to Clara, oozed satisfaction from every pore.

"Ma'am," said one of the aliens, "I'm afraid you'll have to come with us."

XXX

One arrest, five hours, a lot of explaining and legal wrangling, and a Writ of Exile later the Doctor and Clara were back in the newly un-festive TARDIS.

"Well," the Doctor said. "That was unfortunate."

"Yes," said Clara shortly.

"Still, they were all very polite about it, weren't they? Shame the Queen had to show up. I called myself the Professor, but I think she had her suspicions. You know, a former companion of mine used to call me 'Professor.' That was back in the day, before I had this body-"

"Right."

The Doctor tutted. "Oh come on, don't be like that! This wasn't even your home planet. And think how the TARDIS feels! Being searched is very stressful for her. I hope she's feeling alright."

"Here's hoping," Clara said. "Listen, I think I need to call it a night on this trip."

The Doctor didn't fight her. "Well, alright then. Next Wednesday?"

Clara forced a smile. "You know it."

The Doctor ambled back to another room once the TARDIS landed, claiming he needed to search for any other decorations "just in case". The TARDIS opened the door for her once they landed.

Once outside, Clara turned back towards the door. She regarded it silently for a few moments. "Okay," she said. "Good game. Well done. Until next time, snogbox."

She had already collapsed into a chair when she heard the wheezing of the TARDIS departing.

**This was just a short, light hearted Christmas… thing for ya'll this Christmas Eve. (Incidentally, my first Christmas as a Whovian, so I thought I'd make the most of it.) I hope you all have a very good time on your respective holidays, and I hope you enjoy this story as much as I enjoyed writing it. Allons-y!**


End file.
